


knots

by msermesth_on_wednesdays (msermesth)



Series: Flash Fics for New Comics [9]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Avengers Vol. 8 (2018), Flash Fic, M/M, Pining, Sexual Tension, Unhappy Ending, background Steve Rogers/Sharon Carter - Freeform, background Tony Stark/Janet Van Dyne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-28 22:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17191631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msermesth/pseuds/msermesth_on_wednesdays
Summary: Tony and Steve say goodnight after Ben's bachelor party.





	knots

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! I promise I didn't forget this project, life just got away from me.
> 
> This fic is based on yesturday's Fantasic Four #5 and [this edit by sheron.](https://sheronwrites.tumblr.com/post/181440086024/fantastic-four-5-2018-by-adam-hughes-steve)
> 
> Note: In this fic Steve and Tony are in canonical relationships with other people, even though they are thinking about the other. You've been warned.
> 
> Fulfills my bingo square for "writing format: use of symbolism".

Steve reaches his arms upward and his fingertips graze the ceiling of the hallway leading to the rooms of Avengers Mountain. “That was fun,” he muses as he tugs down his fitted white shirt and covers the patch of skin left bare when he stretched.

“Why don't we do that more often?” Tony asks, still feeling a soft, comfortable elation left over from Ben's bachelor party.

“Because New York would not survive the damages.” Steve's trying to sound stern, but he's got the same lazy smile Tony does. “Plus, superheros don't tend to get married too often.”

The stone of Avengers Mountain absorbs the sounds of their steps. They walk quietly for a few minutes through the corridor. It's only been a few weeks, but already it feels like home here.

“I figured it out,” Tony says after a while, his mind focusing on a simple problem that needs solving. “Next time we'll just get an island or something. I'm sure the supervillains will love that.”

Steve nods, his profile sharp in the dim light of the mountains interior lighting. “Or space… we could always go to space…” he trails off and--Tony imagines--wordlessly plans out how to fortify a spaceship to support super powered partiers.

“Well, this is me.” Tony regretfully announces and stops in front of the door separating his room from the rest of Avengers Mountain. It's late, but his new body feels none of it--it's like he’s twenty-five again, back when his drinking problem was only in its infancy and stumbling home in the early hours of the morning wasn't an act of shame.

Steve walks the couple extra steps until he's opening up his own door across the hall. Tony takes a second longer than he needs to step into the room, still nursing his elevated mood and not ready for the night to end.

“Uh, Tony,” Steve says, hesitant, right as Tony's about to give up on whatever he's waiting for.

Tony turns to look at him, quicker than maybe he should have. “Yeah?”

“I have your bow tie.” Steve pulls out the black silk tie from his pocket and holds it up as if Tony wouldn't have known what he meant. “I found it after that poker game.”

Somehow Steve injects heat into the phrase 'that poker game,’ the type of heat that encourages Tony to step just a little bit forward, until he's just outside the threshold of his room.

Tony holds his hand out, waiting for Steve to reach out and give it over, but instead they just stand like that, caught mid moment by a figurative magnetic energy that only intensifies when Steve crosses the couple of feet separating them until they're standing, far closer than they should be in the wide hallway. “Thanks,” Tony tries to say, but it catches in his throat.

“No problem,” Steve mutters. Tony grabs the bow tie in an attempt to take control of the situation, but with Steve's eyes on him it feels so awkward just standing with it, hanging limply in his hand, that he wraps it around his neck so that it lies untied around his throat.

Steve bites his lower lip, and unless Tony is imaging it, his eyes follow the bow tie down past the skin made available by the open buttons at the top of his shirt. “I was going for effortlessly cool tonight,” Tony says and it sounds so stupid and strange coming out of his mouth. It's like his brain has stopped functioning.

Steve swallows and it feels like he's getting closer even if he hasn’t moved an inch. “You succeeded.” His hand reaches up, and Tony doesn’t see it, can’t see anything except Steve’s brilliant blue eyes, but he feels the way the air parts so that Steve can bring his fingers the the fabric of the bow tie.

It takes all the strength Tony’s well-engineered body has to not lean either into or away from Steve’s touch. He keeps himself stock-still and tries to focus on taking deep breaths-- _one...two...three_ \--all the while Steve’s other hand reaches out until he’s holding both ends of the bow tie in his hand. Steve’s focus on his exposed neck is complete and absolute and Tony can only watch as Steve flips one end and ties it over. 

“Do you think you’re ever going to get married?”  Steve asks, eyes still on what he’s doing while Tony watches the rhythm of Steve’s hands and the faintest smile on his lips.

“I don’t think Jan and I are that serious, yet.” Tony wants it to sound like he’s reminding Steve that he’s blissfully taken, but it ends up coming out like he’s trying to emphasize how un-serious he feels about Jan.

Steve nodes and continues to fuss over the tie.

Tony’s heart is beating like drum solo. “What about you? Ever going to tie the knot with Sharon?”

“I’m not sure.” Steve’s hands still and he looks up above Tony’s shoulder. It only lasts a second, but it makes it impossible for Tony to ignore the pull of the bed behind him, of Steve’s across the hallway, of the need to slip his hands underneath the hem of Steve’s shirt. “I think that’s the problem. I’m never sure.” The only thing between them and exhilaration of being skin to skin are only walls and doors.

Walls and doors, and more than a decade of friendship.

(And two women Tony never wants to hurt.)

“I should go to bed,” Tony says, because he has to, because he’s seconds away from doing something he’ll regret, because if he doesn’t step away now, he’ll never be able to step away in the future.

Steve stiffens, his hands fall to his sides, and he lets out a long breath that Tony can hear. “Yeah, me too.”

Tony turns around before he can’t anymore and closes the door while he squeaks, “Goodnight, Steve,” with false cheer.

“G’night,” Steve responds before Tony hears his door close.

Tony can feel the bow tie against his throat, creating the sensation that he’s only seconds away from choking. Without realizing how it happens, he ends up sitting on the floor, back against the wood, and his clawing at his neck to get some space between him and the fabric.

It rips off with a snap and Tony throws it across the room, sick to his stomach. "Goddamit," he mutters. "God fucking dammit."

**Author's Note:**

> I write less flashy fics as [msermesth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/msermesth/pseuds/msermesth). When I'm not complaining about my life, I say things about comics on [twitter](https://twitter.com/msermesth). You can reblog this in [tumblr](https://msermesth.tumblr.com/post/181473879409/knots/)


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